Oh Baby I'm a Wreck.

[hobnob]

A black silhouette against the bright moon, dashing across the rooftops, jumping, rolling, running. A silhouette of cloak reaching down to the ankles, below are ninja boots that are in a immaculate state. Up top, a hood resting on the individuals shoulders, a wooden mask sitting on top of his head. Upon his face, young features, and a tube of embers. An inhale and the amber end grows brighter, nearing the lips holding them. A hand moved and grabbed the tube and flicked it into the dark abyss between the buildings while performing a somersault. The smoke filled the windless roof, as the youth stood at the edge of the building looking down at his target, surrounding him like a cloud. With a turn of his head, he scouted the street to see if there were any potential witnesses. With another move of the hand, the youth fixed the mask over his face, the hood that was resting on his shoulders was now covering his head, and with a little bend in his knees the youth propelled himself into the air with a triple front twist and lands before the door, his one knee gently tapping the ground as he does so.

His dark eyes fixated on the key hole, his hand moved as if it were trained to so do, his forefinger turning into a small piece of wood before being inserted into the keyhole, where it would fit itself exactly to match the key required to turn the lock to his favor. Click. Click. Clack. And the door slowly swung towards the inside, the hinges making a gentle squeak as it moved. A evil smirk appeared on his face under the mask as he took a step inside, now it was a case of finding the treasure that required him to carry out his mission at this time of night.

Gently stepping around, applying his ninja skills to produce as little noise as possible, the youth placed his hands on the tables that were arranged into a C, and hopped over opening the cupboard that contained what he was looking for. A small package with the symbol of the Fire Country at the front, a text the red 'Fire's Pure' wrapped in thin plastic to prevent any moisture from rotting the beautiful contents. The package dropped into the deep pockets of the cloak, and soon many more followed, until the contents of the cupboard were inside his cloak. Now he had enough to keep his addictions in check for weeks. Hopping back over the counter, the youth realized that making his way home would not be as swift as he would have liked, the size, awkwardness, and weight of his pocket was proving to be troublesome. Swinging the door behind him, not bothering to lock it, the youth made left the scene by hopping back onto the building he had hopped down a few minutes ago.